


All the Bases Loaded

by miasnape



Category: Sports Night
Genre: Baseball, Challenge Response, Coming Out, Community: sn_playbook, M/M, Nakama, Sports Metaphors, Unseen Action
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-03
Updated: 2012-03-03
Packaged: 2017-11-01 00:56:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/350215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miasnape/pseuds/miasnape
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Casey and Danny let the other players on the team take a swing for them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Bases Loaded

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Ballgame Challenge at sn_playbook.

"You know that neither of them had actually been to a game?"

Casey sighed and let his head fall with a thump onto the back of the sofa. "Danny."

"I'm just sayin', this is a seminal piece of music to the baseball fan. This song evokes the grassroots, die-hard, American spirit that lies in the hearts and minds of the supporters of our nation's official sport. You hear just one line of that chorus, even just the melody, and you're immediately transported to sun-baked, chalk-scented summer days; to the echoes of wood on leather and feet on worn bleachers and the palpable energy of a crowd that's become more than the sum of the individuals that make it up. Casey, this song is, to many people, what baseball is all about. And neither of its composers had been to see a single game: not Norworth, no, sir. Maybe Von Tilzer, you say?"

"I say nothing, Danny. I swear, I say nothing," Casey grimly assured their office ceiling, hands outspread in a frozen plea that Danny, caught up in the ecstasy of oration, completely missed.

"No, no, my friend; not even Von Tilzer," Danny continued, perched on the edge of his seat. "Not a single inning had taken place before their eyes and yet they managed to compose something that encapsulates the experience of baseball fans from the beginning of the last century and into the beginning of this one. You don't find that impressive?"

Casey rolled his head to the side to look at Danny. "I find it more impressive that you used the word 'seminal' without even a twitch of childish amusement."

Danny stared at Casey for five long seconds, and then deflated back into a slump. "Yeah, me too."

Danny filled the ensuing pause by pursing and unpursing his lips. Then, "Did you know Natalie finds the word 'seminal' to be sexist?" he asked, shifting slightly on the sofa until his body was angled towards Casey.

"She finds it sexist?"

Danny nodded. "She does indeed."

Casey's forehead furrowed. "The word 'seminal'. The word in and of itself?"

Danny nodded again. "She says it serves to undermine women by asserting an indivisible connection between male virility and creativity that leaves no place for female empowerment."

Casey blinked. "Huh. I'm not going to argue that point with her, ever."

"No," Dan agreed. There was silence for a few more minutes before he felt obliged to break it again with, "She also has issues with the term 'hysteria'."

Casey waved a hand vaguely in the direction of Dan's desk. "The wandering womb? Anatomy is destiny?"

"Yeah. Not touching that one either."

"No," Casey agreed.

New York silence descended on the office. Outside, many floors down, traffic drove by. Outside, in the bullpen, people went about their business. Outside, somewhere in an office, Dana and Issac were meeting with some people from the network.

"Is this our strike three?" Danny finally asked, subdued with a fearful kind of resignation.

Casey moved his whole body to look at him. "Our strike three?"

"Strike one was after your divorce. Strike two was Draft Day. I'm talking about our career-ending strikeout, Casey. Are we there, now? Is this it?"

Casey sighed. He reached across the sofa and took Danny's hand in his. "I don't know, Dan. We've got Dana and Issac in that room rooting for us, and a whole bunch of people in the bullpen who would go scary lengths to help us out. Maybe it's not the end of the game; maybe it's just time to let the other players on the team take a swing."

Dan squeezed Casey's hand. "Yeah." Then he looked at Casey, squeezed again, firmer, and smiled. "Yeah. We got a pretty good team. Hall of Fame good. We'll just let them do what they do so well."

Casey tangled his fingers with Danny's, and they waited.

END


End file.
